


Are We Really Family Until We Fight?

by IWillBeTheEndofYou



Series: The Domestic Lives Of Figure Skaters [8]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Child Neglect, Disagreements, Fits, Found Family, M/M, Mistakes, Name Calling, Podium Family, Victor tries to make peacce, Yuri Plisetsky Needs a Hug, parenting is hard, shouting, tantrums, where are Yuri's parents?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:07:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28559562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWillBeTheEndofYou/pseuds/IWillBeTheEndofYou
Summary: Yuuri and Yuri have a disagreement. Yuuri finally asks where his parents are. Victor reluctantly agrees to tell him.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Series: The Domestic Lives Of Figure Skaters [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046686
Comments: 42
Kudos: 274





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PorcelanaRota](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PorcelanaRota/gifts).



“Well, I am sorry that you're upset, but the answer is no.” Yuuri put the spatula down. 

“You're not my father!” Yuri shouted. His cheeks were red, and his teeth were clenched. Yuuri just turned slowly from the stove, not letting himself take the bait and shout back.

“That's not a respectful way to speak to me, Yuri. You may go to your room for the rest of the evening, and we can discuss this in the morning.” 

“Don't tell me what to do!” he slammed his palms down on the table. “I can make my own choices, I've been doing it for years. I don't need you sweeping in here and deciding that you know what's best for me.”

“It's pretty obvious to me that you do need that if you're going to make poor choices.” Yuuri snorted. He knew, somehow, that this wasn't quite the right way to go about this. He wasn't sure what else to say, though, Yuri was backing him into a corner.

“Aren't I supposed to make poor choices when I'm young? Either I'm old enough to know that they're poor choices and not care, or I'm young enough that I need to make the mistakes.” the blond insisted. And if he really thought about it, the older man was forced to admit that there was maybe a kernel of truth in that thought.

“Not poor choices like this. Not stuff that could get you hurt.” he crossed his arms and frowned. “I said no, Yura. I'm not going to repeat myself, sweetheart.”

“Don't call me that!” he snarled. 

“Are you tired? Is that it? Were you up too late last night talking to Beka?”

“Don't patronize me!” he was howling now. Yuuri was a little ashamed of himself. He was taunting him, a little bit. “Tired or not, I can make my own choices. And I will.”

He spun on his heel, heading for the door, snatching his coat. Yuuri slammed a lid on the pan he was making supper in and rushed out after him.

“Yurio, don't walk away from me. Come back here, I'm talking to you.”

“Well, I'm done talking to you, piggy.” his hand was on the door. He ripped it open, ready to speed out, when he walked smack into Victor's chest. He put his gloved hand on Yuri's shoulder, his other   
hand holding Makka's leash.

“What's going on?” he asked quietly, taking in the sight of his husband looking frazzled and his ward's face bright red. He could hear the muffled shouts as he walking up the sidewalk, but had hoped that they would settle out when he was coming up to the door.

“He doesn't own me.” Yuri pointed to the brunet. “I'm still a person. I didn't need someone to coddle me for years, I didn't suddenly wake up and need it now.”

“Of course not.” Victor agreed.

“He is a child, and if he's going to stay here, then he needs to obey rules.” Yuuri took a deep breath in through his nose before he began speaking. 

“Of course he does.”

“Are you taking his side?” they both demanded. Victor could only sigh and kneel down to undo the leash from his poodle, giving her a few scritches before coming back to stand up.

“I'm not on anyone's side.” he had to tread carefully. “That's not what this is about. Yurotchka, you cannot talk to us that way. We don't scream at each other, we don't name call. We don't walk away in the middle of a conversation. We're not disrespectful.”

“You don't even care about the way he was treating me.” Yuri knew that he was being slightly irrational. He wasn't doing well at proving that he was an adult by carrying on this way. But he was in too deep now to back down. 

“I do care how he was treating you.” Victor insisted. “I do, Yura. And I know and trust Yuuri enough to know that he wasn't doing anything out of line.”

“So now it really is two against one. You're not even going to ask me!”

“I know what I heard, Yuri. And I told you, that isn't how we talk to each other in this house. Even when we're upset with each other. Even when we're hurt. If you're so grown, then you should know when to end a conversation.” Victor's tone took on a firmer edge now.

“You're not my father either.”

“No, he isn't.” Yuuri agreed. “And neither am I. But we signed all the papers. If you got hurt, then we'd be responsible for it. If you did something dumb and got in trouble with the law, that's on us, too. Don't you understand how poorly that reflects on us? Your Grandpa and Yakov would be furious.”

“So you only care because of how it makes you look?”

“That's not true and you know it, Yuri!” he stomped back to the kitchen to rescue dinner before it burned. “I'm not going to be treated like a monster because I want you to be safe. If you're going to stay here, you're going to need to follow the rules.”

“Then maybe I won't stay here!” he roared.

“That's fine, kiddo. Pack your bag, go storming out of here. We won't stop you. I just have one question. Where else do you think you have to go?” Yuuri spun around. Yuri looked like he'd been smacked. There was a pregnant pause in the air for a moment. His heart dropped through his stomach, puddling at his feet. He wanted to take the words back as soon as he said them.

This was too close to that topic they never spoke about. Victor was pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I hate you!” Yuri screamed. There was so much heartbreak in his words, it made Yuuri want to cry. He did, at least, turn from the front door and run from his room, slamming it shut. The two older men stared at each other, as music came pounding out of the kid's bedroom.

“I did not handle that one well, did I?” the Japanese man moaned and buried his face in his hands.

“It did lack a little finesse.” Victor agreed. He finished hanging up his coat and came to wrap his husband in a hug.  
“But we're all learning. All kids push back against boundaries. Especially a kid who hasn't had them before.”

“I didn't mean to hurt his feelings.”

“Yes, you did.” Victor corrected gently. “He was lashing out at you and you couldn't talk him down for once, and you panicked. I understand.”

“But it still wasn't okay to speak to him like that.”

“No,” Victor agreed. He walked Yuuri to one of the kitchen chairs and sat him down, before bustling around the kitchen to prepare a mug of tea. They were silent for a bit, letting the angry tones of the   
music wash over them. 

When there was a mug sitting in front of him, the brunet lifted it up and sipped. Perfect temperature. Just the way he liked it. Even in the silly mug he liked with the blue poodles all over it. Victor sat across from him with his own mug.

“He is a child, Yuuri. You're quick to point that out to me, when it he wakes in the middle of the night, when he eats us nearly out of house and home, when he comes to seek you out for a snuggle. He's a child.”

“Victor, what happened to his parents?”

The Russian paused for a second, took a drink of his tea and set it down. He peered into the cup, contemplating the liquid inside.

“It is not a nice story.”

“I didn't figure it would be.”

“I should let him tell you himself. But I am starting to believe that he doesn't quite understand it himself. And how can he tell you what he needs when he's not even sure he knows himself?” he was talking to himself, but Yuuri knew better than to rush him. He just waited, quietly, like he did when Yura was working through something in his head.   
“All right, Yuuri. You win. Let's talk about this.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor discusses Yuri's childhood. Apologies are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Depictions of drug use and child neglect/abuse. DO NOT READ IF YOU FIND THIS DISTURBING. Thank you!

“Yakov and Nikolai are very old friends.” Victor began. “Nikolai and his wife, Vanya, had a daughter Nadja. And Nadja was beautiful. Just gorgeous. Yuri looks just like her, only she was somehow even more captivating and ethereal. But then, she smiled a whole lot more than he does.” Yuuri knit his brows, already interested.  
“And Nandja was so beautiful, and everyone was drawn to her like moths to a flame. She danced, a little bit. Under Lilia. She was older than me, but I was aware of how everyone stopped to watch Nadja when she walked into a room.”

Yuuri pictured it. A woman, so long and willowy like Yuri. With those big green eyes and that silky hair. A smiling person, someone who just stole the room. Yuri could do that, too, when he really tried. Bit it was almost like a light had gone out inside Yuri, and it was hard for him to capture that flame again. If he was being honest, Yuuri had only seen it when he was skating, sometimes, or maybe just maybe, once in a great while when he was with Otabek.

“Everyone watched her.” Victor repeated. “Included Levi. He was a hockey player, and he loved the way she danced. He was nobody, really.” the man sighed and rubbed his eyes. “He should have been no one, anyway.”

“Should have been?”

“He wasn't a very talented hockey player. He skated fine, and he was fast. He mainly stayed on the team because he was just so violent. That's not unusual in hockey, but Levi was out there for blood. I think he aimed for more faces than he did pucks. But, he hung around and the studio was so close to the rink, and one day Nikolai was at the rink to talk to Yakov. So she walked there to meet her Papa.”

“Oh no,” Yuuri had a feeling he knew what was going to happen.

“Oh yes. Levi laid eyes on her and decided that she must be his. And no one was going to stop him. Not Yakov, not the hockey coach, and certain not Nikolai.”

“Did she like him?”

“Weelll,” Victor drawled. “I think she did. But I think what she liked more was that sense of danger that be brought. And the fact that Nikolai didn't like him. Nadja was not used to be told no, and I think it bothered her that he forbade them from seeing each other, in a way. And of course, he did do everything to make himself available to her. Picking her up from school, taking her out to clubs, sneaking her in. He was older than her, of course.” 

“Is that why Nikolai didn't like her?”

“Partly,” he nodded. “But also because he was just bad news. There were some rumors about him that were, sadly, true. Part of his violence was because of the heroin... When he could get it. From what I understand he was putting anything he could in his veins.”

“Did she know?” Yuuri was horrified.

“No, not at first. She dismissed it all as rumors, people being jealous of their happiness. People saying anything they could to break them apart. And on some level, she was right. Everyone wanted them apart. It didn't work, of course. Evne when he was thrown off the hockey team and banned from the rink. It only made him want her more.”

“Nikolai must have been outraged.”

“He was. He was so angry, he told her that if she was going to throw her life away on some lowlife, he wasn't going to watch. He cast her out. Told her to pack her bag and leave and not come back.” blue eyes stared straight into brow. If he could have cut his own heart out, Yuuri would have. It was so similar to what he had said to his Yuri.  
“Of course, he didn't expect that she would. He thought that it would settle her down and see that he was serious. Instead, she took a backpack and left with him, sitting in the backseat of his friend's car. And no one saw her again for months.”

“Months? Didn't anyone know where Levi was?”

“No,” Victor shook his head sadly. “When he got kicked off the team and lost his job, he drifted. A whole group of them did, as far as I knew. They found some of the abandoned apartments, there are plenty. Old buildings. They stay for a few days, meet up with other groups or alone. They would inject, I guess. I don't know.”

“That's terrible. And Nikolai couldn't track her down?” Yuuri sighed sadly. That must have been devasting for the man.

“He did try. He asked teammates. He combed the streets. Yakov asked around. But no, no one had seen the pretty blonde lady with those emerald eyes.” he pushed aside his empty mug.   
“She came back on her own, anyway. She wasn't her, not really, not by then. She was so skinny, and that silky hair was stringy and broke and wrong. And she had brusises on her face, on her lips and under her eyes. She refused to say that it was Levi who had given them. Hell, I don't know, it could have been any of them. That's not why she came back to Nikolai, anyway.”

“Yuri,” Yuuri provided after a beat. His husband just nodded sadly.

“Yes, Yuri. And I will give Nadja credit, she was clean while she was pregnant. But she was so thin then, and I'm sure the withdrawl had to be a nightmare. She was angry by the time he was born.” he sat back, crossing his arms over his chest.  
“But I remember seeing that baby in Yakov's arms. I remember that tuft of hair on top of his head. I remember how wide and bright his eyes were. I remember.”

“But what happened? She got better?” Yuuri frowned.

“She disappeared again. I heard it from Yakov later. She took the baby with her to those abandoned places, where she could find the dope. Sometimes Levi was with her, and sometimes not. She'd lay him in piles and rags, or cardboard, or whatever she could find. Sometimes there would be people at those gatherings who were all hopped up on God knows what, and sometimes one of them would take Yuri for a few days. Get him clean and warm, feed him real bottles.”

“My poor sweetheart.” the brunet murmured, almost not aware that's what he was saying. His fingers were pressed to his lips. 

“And once in a great while, she'd bring him to Nikolai. You ought to have seen him, marching up and down the rink with that boy tucked into his arms. The way he'd sit on the bench, rock back and forth. It was...” he trailed off and sighed. “Well. It doesn't matter, I don't think. That's not the point of the story, is it? Anyway, he was about one when she came to Nikolai and begged for help. She swore she was off the dope, promised to do better.” he let his fingers play on the table. Yuuri reached over to catch them, give them a squeeze.

“Did she?”

“For awhile. He found them an apartment, not far from him. Lilia had left Yakov by then, and she was in no shape to dance. Not with a ballet. She danced at clubs, I believe. She brought home the money she could, and Yuri was left with sitters, Nikolai... And then she started to do not so good.”

“Where was Levi?”

“Around,” Victor shrugged. “In and out. He wasn't meant to be staying at the apartment, but Nikolai couldn't watch it all the time, could he? Nadja snuck him in, and I suppose he told her he had a right to see his son. I don't think he was there for Yuri, of course. He was there for Nadja and whatever money she brought home.”

“How long did it last?”

“Too long or not long enough, depending on the day.” Victor examined Yuuri's fingers, not looking him in the eye.  
“A year, maybe. Yuri was right around two. Nikolai came to check on Nadja and the boy, he hadn't heard from her in a days. And she was laying there, on the floor, dead. Yuri hadn't eaten in days, hadn't been bathed in a week. Said the baby was just sitting on the floor next to his mama, crying and shaking her and shaking her. He did say she'd been asleep for days.”

“Oh my God,” Yuuri swallowed hard against the bitter taste in his mouth. 

“And even then, Nikolai didn't get to take him right away. Levi put up a fight. He was at an orphanage for a little while. He has said he doesn't remember. Levi got him for a little bit, but...” Victor hesitated.  
“It didn't last. I didn't get the whole story, but I do know the next time I saw him, he was so skinny, and he had bruises on his arms.”

“I'm gonna kill him.” Yuuri hissed.

“Only if you learn to perform necromancy. He OD'd, too. But Nikolai had been watching, so when no one came out for a day, he kicked in the door. He was four by then. He remembers that, a little.” he pursed his lips.

Yuuri sat back, feeling like a weight was pressing him down. He stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, knowing that Victor was watching him.

“Why didn't Yakov take guardianship of Yuri instead of us?”

“Yakov doesn't have that kind of time. Not for a kid like Yuri. Coaching? Sure. Raising? Not so much.” he shrugged.  
“And besides, how could I say no? How could you say no? And I know it wasn't easy for Nikolai. He has so much guilt. He doted on the boy. He wasn't sure how to start over raising a kid. His wife had died by then, and he was so worried with the mistakes he made with Nadja.”

“I really really screwed this one up.” Yuuri scrubbed at his face with his palms, feeling drained and heartbroken. But most of all, he just felt sorry.

“Yuuri, we're not perfect people. We may be parents, but we're still human, aren't we?” he stood up, walked around the table and gave him a kiss.  
“But the music stopped, and I think it might be time to have a conversation?”

Yuuri leaned into his husband for a moment, shoring up his courage. He sighed and then started to walk towards the bedrooms. He knocked gently on Yuri's door. The music had stopped, but he could hear rustling.

“Yura?” he called softly. There was only a whimper inside. “Yura? Sweetheart, open the door, please?”

“It—it isn't locked.” the voice sounded so broken and lost. Yuuri pulled it open and stepped in. There was Yuri, curled into a tight ball on the bed, his eyes red and puffy, his lips chewed almost raw. He looked at his guardian with wide, hurt eyes. 

“Sweetheart,” he whispered. “My sweetheart.”

“I'm sorry!” he cried out, tears spilling down his cheeks. He scrambled out of bed and rushed to Yuuri, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt.  
“I don't hate you, I don't! I don't!”

“Shh,” Yuuri held him tight to his chest. “I know you don't hate me.”

“I didn't mean it, I didn't.” Yuri was almost hysterical. The older man walked them to his bed, sat them down. He maneuvered himself against the headboard and did the only thing he could think of. He dragged the kid into his lap, letting his head rest against his neck.

“I know you don't hate me. I know you didn't mean it. I know, Yuri, it's okay sweetheart. Don't worry.” he held him tight to his chest, aware of the desperate way Yuri was holding him back.  
“I owe you an apology, sweetheart.” he gently cupped the kid's face, held him steady. His heart was broken all over again, to see the pain and misery etched on his face, the fear in his eyes. The uncertainty.  
'I should never, ever have told you to leave. I most never should have ever said that you had nowhere else to go. That was wrong, and I am so sorry, baby.”

The kid shook his head, burrowed back into Yuuri.

“I was being a jerk.”

“You were being a kid, what we've always told you that you could be here.”

“You're not going to kick me out?” he froze, looked down at the kid in his arms, who suddenly seemed so small, so fragile. He seemed less like the Ice Tiger and more like a little boy. Yuuri thought about him, at two, sitting next to his Mommy's body, he thought about him at four, being dragged around by his dad. He crushed the boy to his chest.

“No, never.” he kept his voice even and soothing. “I need you to know something. Are you listening to me?” there was a nod of the blond hair against his chest.  
“There is nothing you could ever do to make me not love you, Yura. There is nothing that you could ever do to make me sorry that you came. Not one thing.”

Yuri whimpered against, burying his face in his neck again. He sat there for a little bit, rocking them back and forth. He let Yuri cry, his cheek resting on top of the head. He tried to still the thudding of his own heart. This wasn't about how upset he had been, this wasn't about how appalled he was hearing about Levi and Nadja had done to him and not done for him.

This was about the kid sobbing into his shoulder, holding onto him, like he was afraid that the older man would disappear. He kept rocking them, hoping that it was grounding him a little bit. The tantrum had been normal teenager crap, maybe even saying that he hated him.

But this was something else. No wonder, Yuuri thought, Agape had been so hard. It had never really been translated for him. He'd once read that 'mother' was the name for God on the lips of all children. How could someone dance that kind of love when it felt so far from them?

Of course Nikolai loved him, adored him. He would never so much as consider the fact that the old man didn't. But he'd had his own traumas to work through, and his guilt that was always there, haunting him. His guilt that was reflected in these big green eyes and this golden colored hair. 

“I love you,” he said gently. “I love you so much, sweetheart. Ever since the day that I first watched you skate Agape, I loved you.”

“Even when I was mean to you?” the kid whispered.

“Especially when you were mean to me. That's when you needed it the most. If you need to be mad, Yura, be mad. If you need to be sad, do that. We'll be here with you. We'll love you through it.” he kissed his temple.

They sat together, clutching one another, soothing their heart, assuring each other that whatever had happened today had broken things. Whatever had happened today had not ruined this little family. Their hearts seemed to beat in sync as Yuri gradually stopped crying.

When Victor peeked in on them half an hour later, he saw his husband and their ward laying on top of the covers, arms wrapped around each other. Yuri looked all cried out, his lips slightly pale, his cheeks dark pink, his eyelids puffy. Yuuri's arms were still wrapped around him, pulling him tight to his chest.

He crept in and gave them both a kiss on top of the head, pulled the extra blanket on the floor over them. He slipped out, smiling to himself when Potya and Makka made their way in to curl around them. 

One last glance at them, finally, peacefully, together, and he closed the door.


End file.
